“True,” he agrees. “But today, you got my food without me even having to order it… a sign that you’re paying attention to my wants and needs. And when you turned me down, you smiled this time instead of glaring at me. Sierra, you’re caving, and soon, you’re going to give in to what’s brewing between us.”
Jesus, he’s right. I am paying attention. And he is getting to me. That force field protecting my heart simply isn’t strong enough to withstand his charm. What about him urges me to let my guard down?
I release a completely unladylike snort because you know… fake it till you make it. “For a man who’s been turned down a half dozen times, you seem quite sure of yourself.”
“I don’t hear you denying there’s something between us.” He points his fork my way. “I’ve been turned down five times, but I won’t let that stop me. I can feel it…” He leans in, and without thought, as though a rope pulls me toward him, I do as well. “The sexual tension is so thick between us that it’ll be worth the effort because when you give in, this thing between us will explode.”
His words roll off his tongue like the sweetest yet scariest promise, reminding me of when I was younger and would use drugs as an escape. When I was high, I was on top of the world, but the minute it ended, and I crashed, it left me in a puddle of pain and regret. And that’s what he could easily become to me… a drug. The high would be incredible, but the crash… it would no doubt destroy me.
“Besides,” he adds, unaware of how my heart pounds behind my rib cage. “It’s inevitable.” He stabs the greens with his fork and shoves a bite into his mouth.
I count to five, needing to get my feelings under control. Every day he shows up here, he gets more personal, revealing more of himself. And with every word he speaks, he makes it harder for me to resist him.
“Inevitable, huh?” I choke out, grabbing the washcloth to focus my attention on something else other than him.
“As inevitable as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west.”
“How very poetic of you. Is that what you teach? Poetry?”
I’ve seen his university badge, so I know he works there.
He chuckles.
“What?” I glance up from wiping down the already clean counter.
“You just proved my point. You’re caving.”
“How so?”
“You’re asking me questions. Trying to get to know me.”
“More like it’s slow and I’m making conversation with the only person sitting at the bar,” I retort.
“Whatever you have to tell yourself.” He takes a sip of his drink. “But to answer your question… No, I don’t teach poetry. I teach psychology. I’ve almost completed my master’s in clinical psychology.”
“You want to be a psychologist?” After my parents died, the state required my sister, Blakely, and me to see one. I hated her because she was condescending and lacked empathy. It’s one of the reasons my sister is in school to become a guidance counselor. She wants to help guide kids in a positive way.
“I’m actually hoping to get a full-time teaching job at the university. But I’d love to volunteer at various mental health facilities. Therapy saved my life, and I want to help others the way it helped me.”
Thankfully, a customer sits down at the other end of the bar. I excuse myself to greet her, and from there, the evening picks up. A steady flow of customers keeps me busy—between running the bar with one other person and managing the restaurant—and when I finally get a chance to check on Kolton, he’s not there.
“Can you grab a bottle of Johnny Walker black label from the back?” Wilma asks. “We’re out of it up here.”
“Sure.”
I’m halfway down the hall, my eyes trained on my phone, reading a text from my sister, when I run into a… wall? “Oomph.” I stumble backward, my feet losing their balance, and am mentally preparing myself for the fall when powerful hands grip my waist and keep me upright.
My vision adjusts to the darkness, and I find the wall isn’t a wall at all, but Kolton. He must’ve been coming out of the men’s restroom.
“Shit, are you okay?” he asks, his voice filled with concern. “I was looking at my phone and didn’t see you.” His eyes lock with mine, and the sudden heat of his stare fills me with liquid lust.
“I was too.” My words come out breathy, our proximity messing with my head. Usually, I have the bar to serve as a barrier between us. But now… nothing’s between us. It’s just Kolton and me in a dark hallway.
His fingers dig into my sides, his front flush with my own. My chest brushes up against his, and I can feel my nipples, sensitive with desire, pushed up against his muscular torso. Our faces are close. Too close. He’s a head taller than me, but in my heeled boots, I’m close enough that I can reach up slightly and lay a soft kiss to his chiseled jawline, working my way to the corner of his mouth before giving his lips my attention…
As if he can sense what I’m thinking, he groans softly under his breath. “I want to kiss you so fucking badly.”
“Then do it,” I whisper. “Kiss me.”
“Go out with me.”
And just like that, the moment is broken. I back away, sucking in a breath of air that isn’t filled with Kolton’s scent. “I can’t.”
Without waiting for his response, I turn my back on him and disappear down the hall into the storage room. In the darkness, I take a moment to get my breathing—and libido—under control, and then I grab the bottle I need and head back out.
When I return to the bar, all that’s left of Kolton is his signed receipt. Wilma must’ve given him his bill.
“He couldn’t keep his eyes off you,” Wilma says, glancing over my shoulder. “When I brought him his bill, he looked like a sad puppy that I wasn’t you.”
“It’s not happening…” Then maybe you shouldn’t have told him to kiss you… I’m going to chalk that up to temporary insanity.
I have no intention of giving him a chance to break my heart. Thanks to my sister and my beautiful nephew, I'm on the right path, and I refuse to ever go back down the path of destruction. I prefer to date men who won’t destroy me. The ones I’m safe from giving my heart to.
“Have you seen the man?” Wilma waggles her brows. “He’s fine as hell.”
There’s no denying he’s a good-looking man. With his floppy brown hair he keeps swept under his gray beanie, his mesmerizing brown eyes look at me as if he can see straight into my soul, and when he gets comfortable and rolls the sleeves of his dress shirt up… Holy shit! Between his muscular forearms and the ink donning them, my insides become a freaking inferno. Nothing is hotter than a man who can wear a suit like it was made for him while hiding the bad boy underneath. Too bad I won’t ever get the chance to experience either. My mom had a man like that once—my dad—and it killed her… literally. No way am I following in those footsteps.
Chapter 2
Kolton
* * *
“You’re home late,” my brother says as I walk through the door of my apartment, shedding my coat and suit jacket along the way. “Actually, now that I think about it, you’ve been getting home late a lot lately.” Keegan crosses his arms over his chest and quirks a single brow. “You have a secret nightlife I don’t know about?”
I set my briefcase on the coffee table and drop onto the couch. “Wasn’t aware that you staying here temporarily meant suddenly becoming my parent. Do I have a curfew, too, Dad? Am I grounded?”
“Ha-ha. Seriously, though, what gives?” He sits across from me on the other couch and props his shoe-clad feet on my table. I eye it in annoyance, and he laughs, removing his feet.
“How much longer are you going to be crashing here?”
“Not sure.” He shrugs. “Stop deflecting.”
I sigh, knowing he won’t give up. My brother knows me too damn well. A downfall to being in each other’s lives for almost twenty-five years—you get to see every part of the other person.
“There
’s this woman…” I begin, barely getting the words out before Keegan hoots.
“Oh, shit! Seriously? Took you long enough to get back in the game.”
“Well, I’m not exactly back in.” I release a harsh breath. “More like sitting on the sidelines and begging to get put into the game.”
Keegan laughs. “She turned you down?”
“Five times.”
He scoffs. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“She told me I’m ugly,” I joke.
He cracks up. “That can’t be true. I happen to know you’re a sexy-ass specimen of a man.” He waggles his brows, and I throw my pillow at him. “But that’s not what I meant. What the hell is wrong with you that you asked out the same woman five times? You didn’t get the hint the first four times she said no?”
“I know… I know I should let her go, but you’re not there. You should see the way she looks at me when she doesn’t think I’m paying attention.”
I lean forward, my elbows landing on my knees, and scrub the sides of my face in frustration. “And the way she smiles when she doesn’t know I’m watching her. She has the most beautiful smile, but there’s something about it that’s just the tiniest bit sad…”
I close my eyes, replaying the way her heart-shaped lips purse when she tries to hold back her smile. “Something about her has me drawn to her, has me wanting to reach inside her and find out everything there is to know about her.” And then tonight, when we ran into each other, and I kept her from falling… When she looked at me and told me to kiss her? Fuck! I should’ve done it. I should’ve kissed her. But I didn’t because I want more from her, and I knew if I kissed her, she would regret it, and then I wouldn’t stand a chance.
“Jesus, man,” Keegan says. “I haven’t heard you sound this passionate about anything since…” He flinches, his words trailing off, not wanting to finish his thought.
“Since I killed Keith,” I finish for him, needing to say the words out loud.
“Will you stop that shit?” Keegan hisses. “You didn’t kill him. That piece of shit did.”
My family loves to baby me, but I refuse to take the coward’s way out. I can’t change what happened, but I won’t pretend my choices and actions weren’t what led to the moment that ended our brother’s life. The only way to truly move forward is to admit the truth and deal with it.
“We’ll agree to disagree.” I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s for the best that she’s not interested. I have a shit ton of baggage and—”
“Stop,” Keegan barks. “You want to blame yourself for Keith’s death? I can’t stop you, even if I don’t agree with it, but I refuse to sit here and listen to you be self-deprecating. You’ve punished yourself for long enough, and you deserve to be happy. So if you think she’ll make you happy, I say go for it. Keep at it until she agrees to go out with you.” He laughs and stands. “Or until she calls the police and gets a restraining order.”
I slowly raise my middle finger, silently expressing how I feel about his comment.
“No, thanks,” he quips. “You might be hot, but you’re still blood.”
“What can I get you?” a raven-haired woman standing on the other side of the bar asks.
“Umm…” I glance around, hoping to locate Sierra. “I was wondering if—”
Before I can finish my sentence, the woman present in all my thoughts and fantasies walks out from the back. She’s dressed in her work uniform: tight black dress slacks and a collared shirt with the restaurant's logo in the left corner. Her purse is strewn over her shoulder as she strolls in her black heels toward the door.
“I’ve changed my mind,” I call back to the bartender while I spring from my seat and chase after the gorgeous brunette.
“Hey, Sierra! Wait up,” I yell, catching up with her.
Her steps momentarily falter, and her eyes quickly widen, just before that wall she’s an expert at erecting flies up.
“I’m off, but Monica is running the bar. She can take your order.” She doesn’t stop walking.
“Unless you’re on the menu, she can’t help me.” Cheesy as fuck, I know, but at this point, I throw that shit out to get her attention. Like a five-year-old boy who messes with the girl he likes at recess.
I know it works when she snorts under her breath, then covers her mouth and nose to cover it up—too late. “I really have to get going,” she says. “The bus will be here in a few minutes, and unless I want to wait an hour for the next one, I need to grab it.”
“Get a drink with me.” I rush forward and block her path. “Please. Just one drink.”
She stops in her place. “I’m not looking for a boyfriend.”
“Who said anything about being your boyfriend?” I joke. “I just asked you to get a drink with me. If I buy you food, will you assume I’m going to ask you to move in with me? Oh, shit.” I widen my eyes in mock surprise. “If I throw in an appetizer, will you expect me to propose?”
The cutest fucking blush creeps up her neck and cheeks. “I… I didn’t…”
“I’m just messing with you.” I step toward her. “In all seriousness, I have every intention of becoming your boyfriend one day.” Her eyes bug out in shock. “And one day, you will move in with me… Or I can move in with you.” I shrug. “And then, when I know you’re going to say yes, I will most definitely propose.”
“Kolton!” She gasps.
I ignore the beginnings of her freak-out. “You and me… it’s inevitable. But don’t worry. I’m okay with taking things slow… for now.” I playfully wink. “All I want to do is take you somewhere to buy you a drink and have a conversation. So, what do you say? One drink? Anywhere you want.”
She sighs, and her face dips, her gaze dropping to the ground. She’s thinking, contemplating. I’m wearing her down…
“Please,” I murmur, moving into her space.
Her hair is fanned over her face, so I lightly pinch her chin, forcing her to look up at me, so she can no longer hide behind her curtain of hair. “If you really want me to stop pursuing you, I will, Sierra. But I don’t think you want me to stop. I think you’re scared of what you feel between us, and I get it because I am too. I’ve never felt the instant connection with anyone the way I feel it with you.”
She sucks in a harsh breath, and a wayward strand of hair falls over her eye. I use it as an excuse to touch her by tucking it behind her ear. As my fingers glide down the side of her face, she shivers.
“Kolton,” she breathes, leaning her face into my palm and closing her eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You take a deep breath, you open your eyes, and then you agree to have a drink with me.”
She swallows thickly, then does what I say. “Okay. One drink.” She steps backward slightly, out of my reach, and my hand drops. I want to pull her back so I can touch her some more, but I can tell just agreeing to have a drink with me was hard for her. I need to remember to take shit slow so she doesn’t feel overwhelmed.
“Do you want to walk to someplace close, or do you trust me to drive us somewhere?”
She glances around. “You’ll need to give me a ride home anyway, so I guess we can drive somewhere. Just… if you’re planning to murder me, can you at least leave my body somewhere the police can find it so my sister will know I’m gone?”
I chuckle at her dry sense of humor. “I promise.”
I guide her around back to the parking lot and over to where I parked my bike. I only have one helmet, but we won’t be going far, and technically, they’re not required here.
“Wait, you drive a motorcycle?” she says, coming to an abrupt halt when we arrive at my bike.
“Is that a problem?” I grab my helmet and hand it to her.
“No… I don’t know…” She groans. “It’s just…I dated my fair share of bad boys in high school, and it never ended well. And the past couple of years I’ve tried to become someone better… Someone my sister and nephew can be proud of and—”
&n
bsp; “Whoa there. That’s a whole lot of stereotyping and assumptions in one breath. Yes, I have tattoos. Yes, I drive a motorcycle, but I’m also in college getting my master’s, and I’m a mama’s boy through and through. Sometimes riding a bike is just that… the love of riding.”
Her face falls. “Shit, I’m sorry. Are you sure you want to get to know me? I can’t imagine what you know of me so far is all that amazing.”
“So far, the little bit I know about you is enough to make me curious. And I imagine, once you actually let me in, it’s only going to lead to me wanting to know even more.”
Her lashes flutter, and her caramel-colored eyes meet mine. “You sure you’re not a poetry major? Because you definitely know how to spit out some beautiful words.”
I snort out a laugh. “I’m not usually this romantic,” I admit. “Actually, I’m pretty rusty in that department. But you seem to bring it out in me.” I swing my leg over the side of my bike. “Now, how about you throw your purse into the saddlebag, put my helmet on, and we go for a ride, so I can romance you into agreeing to spend your life with me?”
This time, instead of freaking the hell out at my antics, she laughs. After doing as I said, she hops onto the bike behind me and snakes her arms around my waist, pressing her soft breasts into my back.
“All right, Romeo, I’m ready to be romanced.”
“Doesn’t he commit suicide at the end of that play?”
“Yep, they both did. Isn’t that how romance goes, though? You either live happily ever after or you crash and burn.”
I take off out of the parking lot, and Sierra’s grip on me tightens. This bike was my brother Keith’s. He had it custom made and left it to me in his will. At first, after he died, I didn’t want to touch it, but after I got my shit together, I figured what better way to remember him than to ride the one thing he loved. Until now, I’ve never had a woman on the back of the bike, and I can’t help but feel like maybe there was a reason for that. Because the way Sierra’s body fits against mine, it’s as if she was made for riding on the back.
I Have Lived And I Have Loved: A Charity Romance Collection Page 8